


I Just Want You

by thecryoftheseagulls



Series: Logan Hawke [5]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Sex, Anders has a lot of doubt and scars and self-esteem issues, First Time, Hawke is having none of it, M/M, Scars, they're both overly affectionate dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:18:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2441696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecryoftheseagulls/pseuds/thecryoftheseagulls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By the time Anders comes to Logan Hawke for that first night together, they've both been pining from afar for three years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Just Want You

When Logan pulls him to the bed, Anders goes slowly, but only for a moment. Then something snaps, his careful control gone in an instant as it had been earlier when Logan had said, earnest and aching, “I don’t want you to resist,” and Anders had crushed their lips together in the kiss they’d both been waiting three years for.

Now, Anders pins Logan to the bed and kisses him all over, desperation in his eyes and his mouth. He groans when Logan just places his hands on Anders’ ribs and lets him do whatever he wants. For the moment, it’s enough that Logan has him, here, in his arms, on his bed. Maker’s breath, but he has wanted the healer for so long.

Anders pulls back and tugs Logan to the edge of the bed. He has Logan completely naked before he’s even shed his feathered coat. Straddling Logan’s lap, Anderes buries his face in Logan’s neck and presses kisses from the junction of his shoulder to the edge of the day’s growth of beard. Logan smiles and runs his hands up Anders’ clothed thighs, then reaches up to pull the tie from Anders’ hair. When he combs his fingers through it reverently, the mage groans again, moves his lips to mouth at Logan’s clavicle. He tries to push Logan back onto the bed, fingers brushing down the line of dark hair below Logan’s navel. And Logan is hard already, his body responding to Anders’ insistence with the same need, but he wants – needs – more than just a quick tumble after all this time. Catching Anders’ hand before it can stray any lower, Logan cups Anders’ bristled jaw in his hand.

“Hey,” Logan says, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat and rubs his thumb over Anders’ cheek. “I’m not going to suddenly disappear, love. There’s no rush.” The endearment slips out naturally, and Anders looks at him with wide eyes, inhaling raggedly through his nose.

“It’s just…I’ve wanted this for so long, Hawke – Logan – I…I need…”

Logan presses his lips to Anders’ briefly and then pulls back just long enough to whisper, “Shh.” He kisses him again, drags his lips slowly across Anders’ mouth. Anders’ hand slips to the back of Logan’s head and he moans, moving his whole body forward on Logan’s lap to chase more contact with Logan’s mouth. Taking advantage of Anders’ parted lips, Logan pushes back gently against Ander’s jaw with his hand and slips his tongue inside the other man’s mouth. Anders closes his eyes, his hand fisting in Logan’s black hair. Fingers tugging at the ties on Anders’ coat, Logan slips it to the floor. He parts Anders’ shirt without breaking the kiss, slips his weathered brown hands inside to run along Anders’ sharply pronounced collarbones. Callouses catch on Anders’ soft skin, and the healer’s eyes snap open.

“Logan,” he breathes, grinding his hips against Logan’s lap. It’s friction and heat and the rub of cloth on Logan’s bare skin, and he exhales, a warm smile on his lips. Logan kisses the tip of Anders’ sharp nose. Reaching for the hem of Anders’ shirt, he peels it off slowly.

Underneath, Anders is dark blonde chest hair and pale skin stretched taut over bone, each rib visible, hipbones starkly pronounced. Logan stops his undressing of the mage to put his hands on Anders’ hips. He tips his head. There are scars everywhere, angry red ones and faint pink ones, large and small. The most noticeable are the ones that snake around from his back, clearly the work of a flogging. Logan touches these gingerly, follows the knotty scar around to Anders’ back with his fingers. He feels sick. Anders stops breathing.

Logan presses his forehead to Anders’ shoulder for a moment and then drops his hands to grip at Anders’ thighs. He stands, lifting Anders with him in strong arms, and then sets him back on the bed, kneeling on the floor himself.

“Hawke…” Anders murmurs uneasily, drawing in on himself. He crosses his arms over his chest.

Logan cups his hand over Anders’ cheek and rests the other on Anders’ thigh, his chest tight. “Can I see you?” he whispers. “I want to see… what they did to you.”

Anders swallows, his throat bobbing. He hesitates. “Yes,” he says, his voice nearly inaudible even in the stillness of Hawke’s chambers.

Logan turns him with gentle hands until Anders’ back is visible. There are what look to be the work of several lashings on his back – not excessive ones, exactly, but it is clear that multiple beatings would have had to occur to create these clumped patterns of scars. They are concentrated at Anders’ lower back, middle back, and higher up near his right shoulder – at least three separate occasions, then. His fingers skim over the lashes on Anders’ shoulder. Anders catches his breath.

“Does that hurt?” Logan asks, taking his hand away.

“No.”

Reverently, Logan goes back to tracing the lines of the scars with the pads of his fingers. Under his touch, Anders is stiff and motionless, his head drooping. The very lines of his shoulders seem resigned, tense. Logan sighs. He wraps an arm around Anders’ middle and pulls him close, pressing kisses down the length of his back, over every inch of scarred skin. Then he clambers back onto the edge of the bed so that he’s facing Anders again, pulls the mage back towards him by his still-crossed arms. Anders goes slowly, until he’s practically curled into Logan’s lap.

Anders doesn’t meet Logan’s gaze. He glances around the bedroom, lit brightly by the fire’s glow and the candles in sconces along the wall.

“I’m…not used to doing this so openly,” he says softly, looking lost.

Logan pulls Anders’ arms down. “Hey,” he says, bumping his forehead into Anders’ cheek. “How else am I supposed to see how gorgeous you are?”

Anders blinks. “Not something I’m normally called, by anyone outside of the Blooming Rose, at least.”

“I’ll just have to make up for that by reiterating it constantly, I suppose.”

A rueful smile - not quite a full smile, but close – spreads across Anders’ face. “Oh, you’re good.” He relaxes slightly in Logan’s arms. “Aren’t I supposed to be the witty one?”

Logan brushes the backs of his fingers against Anders’ jaw. “You’ll get no argument from me, love. I can hardly resist you when you’re not flirting with me.”

“So I should start?”

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

Anders raises a brow and considers the other mage for a moment. Looking down, Logan fiddles with the ties on Anders’ trousers and tries not to smile.

“Andraste’s knickers,” Anders finally sighs. “You talk of loveliness. You’re a vision. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Logan stops, his blue eyes warm. “You existed,” he murmurs. “I was lost the first moment I saw you.”

Anders leans their foreheads together. “I love you,” he says. “I’ve been holding back from saying that. You should have a normal life, not be tied down to a fugitive with no future. But I can’t hide what I feel any longer. For three years, I have lain awake every night aching for you.”

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that? By Andraste, man. I’ve loved you for years.” Logan grips Anders’ hair. “You’re all I think about, Anders.” All this time, months and years of longing, waiting, knowing Anders had to feel the same way, knowing the other mage kept himself under the same tight control Logan did, hoping that if he just stayed patient, Anders would finally, _finally_ , let himself be loved. 

“Do you mean that?” Anders murmurs in wonder, his golden-brown eyes widening.

Logan groans, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Do I mean that? I have done everything – _everything_ – I could think of to show you how much you mean to me. I don’t care about Justice, or how you think he might be changing you. I love you, Anders. Everything about you. Your passion for our rights, your sarcasm, the way you wield a staff, all that rage inside you, the shape of your hands and your gift for healing, your compassion, your goodness. I… _Maker_ , Anders.” Logan gathers Anders’ hands between his brown ones, his eyes gleaming. “The things I feel for you, my love – I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I don’t want a normal life, Anders, if that’s even possible for people like us. I just. Want. You.”

Anders’ mouth closes on Logan’s with force, and this time Logan doesn’t protest as Anders presses him back against the bed.

“ _Please_ , Anders,” Logan gasps when Anders leaves off his lips to kiss his way down Logan’s chest. He threads his fingers in Anders’ hair and tips the healer’s head up by the chin with his other hand. “Don’t ever leave me.”

Anders stops, his hands on Logan’s shoulders, giving a little jerk of his head in surprise. “Would you…have me here, living with you? Would you tell the world, the knight-commander, that you love an apostate and will stand beside him?” He scrunches his brows in disbelief.

“Maker’s breath, you ass, _I’m_ an apostate. Is it so hard to believe I want to be with you?”

“I thought…with Justice…” Anders drops his gaze.

Logan sits up and says fiercely, earnestly, “If Justice comes with you, I’ll take you both, and gladly. It took courage to do what you did, Anders, taking a spirit and a friend into yourself. And courage to go on as you both do, fighting for a better world instead of accepting the one we are handed. Do you expect me to condemn you for that? I won’t. I admire you for it. I wish I could be half the man you are, Anders.”

“Fuck, Logan, I…” Anders shakes his head violently, looking away. “I don’t understand how you can look at me, everything I’ve done, what I am, and see all that,” he says miserably.

“Just because you can’t see it, love, doesn’t mean it’s not there. What about all the people you’ve helped over the years?”

“I’ve helped a few people, where I could,” Anders says stubbornly.

Logan scoffs. “You’ve changed dozens, if not hundreds, of lives for the better. You’re wonderful. And I am going to keep telling you that until you believe it.”

Anders shakes his head again, and Logan takes his face between his hands.

“I love you,” Logan repeats.

Anders touches Logan’s lips. “I love you too,” he whispers. When he draws his fingers down the line of Logan’s throat and the center of his broad chest, Logan inhales and grabs Anders’ hand again, stopping him. “ _Logan_ ,” Anders whines.

This time Logan shakes his head. “Please, love, I want…” his voice is husky as he hesitates. “Can I ask you for something?”

“Of course,” Anders says, brow furrowing.

“I want…I want you inside me.”

Anders groans, his eyebrows shooting up nearly to his hairline. “By the Maker, Logan…”

“If you don’t want –” Logan says quickly.

“Yes, by all that’s holy, yes. Whatever you want,” Anders interrupts him.

Logan’s whole face lights up and he plants a sloppy kiss on Anders’ cheek before rolling to the side and reaching for the vial of oil he has already set out on the bedside table. When he turns back, Anders is sitting back on his haunches, still wearing his trousers, with a small frown.

“Anders?” Logan asks tentatively. The healer sighs.

“I don’t…I’ve never…not like this,” Anders says with a helpless shrug, his eyes on the vial in Logan’s hand.

Logan pulls him over by the hand and kisses him impulsively. “I’ll show you,” he says. He gestures at Anders’ trousers and adds humorously, “Nakedness is always a good start.”

Anders grins faintly. He strips, drops the rest of his clothes off the bed and crawls back by Logan. Laying on his side, he props himself up on an elbow.

“Okay.” Anders looks at Logan expectantly. Under the weight of that golden gaze, with Anders a long line of pale skin and blonde hair beside him, Logan feels the blood rushing to his already stiff cock. He reaches out to thumb Anders’ hair out of his face.

“You’re sure this isn’t a dream I’m going to wake up from tomorrow so I can go back to wanting you from a distance?” Logan murmurs, and it isn’t so much a question for Anders as for himself.

“I keep asking myself the same question,” Anders says.

Logan kisses him, slow and steady. When he pulls back he whispers, “Give me your hand.” Logan holds the mage’s hand palm up and pours oil over his first two fingers. Then he guides Anders’ hand down between his legs. “Start with one finger,” Logan says, holding Anders’ hand in place loosely until Anders takes a breath and pushes his pointer finger slowly inside him. Logan grips Anders’ shoulder and nods encouragingly.

“Like this?” Anders moves his finger in careful circles and Logan nods again.

“Add another when you think I’m ready,” Logan says. He lays back and watches the healer, whose face is intent, eyes flicking between his hand and Logan’s face to gauge Logan’s reactions. Logan rubs lazy strokes up and down his cock. After a few moments, Anders starts moving his finger less gingerly, and when he slips a second finger inside Logan, he takes note of which motions make the other man gasp and grasp at the blankets with his free hand. “Anders,” Logan moans when Anders crooks his fingers just so. A smile flits across Anders’ face.

"More?” Anders asks, after a bit. Logan nods. Anders pulls his fingers out to pour more oil over his hand; Logan exhales shakily. Steadying his free hand against Logan’s hip, Anders presses three fingers inside him. “Okay?” he asks.

“You’re doing just fine, love,” Logan murmurs, reaching to rub his thumb over Anders’ face. He shifts, takes Anders’ cock in hand where it bobs against the mage’s stomach. Anders freezes at the sudden contact, his fingers inside Logan spasming and sparking suddenly with magic. Logan arches his back and cries out.

“Logan?” Anders pulls both his hands away from Hawke abruptly and leans over him, frowning in concern.

“Now who’s stealing whose moves?” Logan pants. He smiles. The hand around Anders’ cock tightens as Logan summons tiny sparks of lightning which skitter up and down Anders’ shaft.

Anders’ eyes slip closed, his hips bucking forward involuntarily. “Fuck, Logan,” he groans.

Logan twitches his fingers and cuts off his magic. “Yes,” he breathes, and Anders opens his eyes again as Logan tugs him down between his legs by the hips.

Anders’ eyes are hot, but he hesitates.

“Please, love,” Logan begs, touching Anders’ face gently. The mage shudders and when pushes himself inside Logan, it’s careful and agonizingly gradual. Logan’s hand slips down, comes to rest at the small of Anders’ back, and he takes himself in hand again with the other, sets a pace to match Anders’ shallow thrusts. It’s slow, at first, until the quiet gasps Logan is making encourage Anders to abandon his caution. He snaps his hips with more force, hooking an arm under one of Logan’s knees and pulling him more open. Logan moans. Then Anders is pressing his whole body against Logan’s chest. He tugs Logan’s hand free from his cock and laces their fingers together, takes Hawke in hand himself. He plants open-mouthed kisses up Logan’s chest and then crushes his lips to Logan’s until nearly every inch of them is touching in some way and Logan’s free hand twists in Ander’s hair. Logan cries out again as his vision going white around the edges. Lightning arcs around his fingers and up and down his and Anders’ bodies, barely controlled.

Anders spasms, his own magic flaring in response. His hips stutter once more and then he too is coming, head thrown back to expose the line of his throat. He drops against Logan’s chest with a wordless groan, mindless of the mess.

After a moment, Logan goes to stroke his fingers through Anders’ hair and finds the mage trembling, his face buried in Logan’s neck and his hand gripping tight to Logan’s shoulder.

“Anders?” Logan murmurs. He wraps both his thick arms around Anders’ much thinner frame and brushes the hair back from Anders’ face. “Love, you’re shaking. Did I hurt you?” He shifts, tugs the mage closer, and Anders slips out of him with a muffled groan, which only adds to Logan’s anxiety. “Maker’s breath, I’m sorry. I don’t normally lose control like that; it’s just been so long…” Logan says, anguished. “Anders…?”

Logan can feel Anders press his lips to his neck, and then Anders lifts his head slightly to rasp, “I’m okay, Logan. You did nothing wrong.”

“But you’re shaking,” Logan protests again, smoothing a hand down the line of Anders’ back, over the thick knots of scars.

Anders rests his head on Logan’s shoulder and murmurs, “If you think it’s been a long time for you, imagine how long it’s been for me.”

Logan snorts quietly, relaxing as he rubs soothing circles over Anders’ back and the mage quiets gradually. “I don’t think you fully understand what I mean by a long time.”

“Try me,” Anders says.

Logan hesitates, not because he doesn’t know the answer but because he’s never admitted this, to anyone.

“Seven years,” he finally says.

Anders stills. “All right, you win,” he whispers after a moment. He shifts to look Logan in the eye, touches Logan’s cheek. “So long?”

Logan nods, kissing the pads of Anders’ fingers, not taking his eyes from Anders’ face.

“I don’t love easily, Anders, or often. And the last man I loved – the only other man I loved, he…” Logan looks down.

“You can tell me,” Anders says softly, tipping up his chin so that Logan looks him in the eye again.

“He spat at me, when he found out I was a mage. Threatened to call down the templars on me if I ever showed my face to him again.”

Anders’ brow furrows and he kisses Logan tenderly, fingers stroking over the stubble along Logan’s jaw. Logan brushes Anders’ loose hair back from his face and murmurs,

“We’d been together a year when he said those things. I got careless, lit a fire with magic, and he – Rowan, his name was Rowan – he saw me.”

“I am so sorry, my love,” Anders whispers, fingers still brushing over Logan’s face. Logan shakes his head.

“Just another reason to be grateful for you,” Logan says, “that I never have to hide what I am from you.”

“Never,” Anders agrees fervently.

Logan brushes his lips across Anders’ nose and sighs. “Did I mention that I love you?”

Anders smiles, full and warm and tender this time, and drops his head back onto Logan’s shoulder, curling up against Logan’s side and stretching an arm over Logan’s thick chest.”

“And I love you, Hawke.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, find more of Logan Hawke and general fangirling on my tumblr: thecryoftheseagulls.tumblr.com


End file.
